Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains: An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far WestDrannan, William F.
History
Thirty-One Years on the Plains and in the Mountains, Or, the Last Voice from the Plains: An Authentic Record of a Life Time of Hunting, Trapping, Scouting and Indian Fighting in the Far West
Drannan, William F.
Frontier and pioneer life -- West (U.S.); Indians of North America -- Wars
We picketed our horses and sat down to eat our cold lunch, after
which we started down to the camp, but were very cautious how we
traveled. When in sight of the camp-fire we could see them all
plainly sitting around it. We lay silent and watched them and
their movements. In a few minutes two of them got up and went out
to where their horses were and drove them all up together to less
than one hundred yards of where we lay. It was so dark we could
not see them, but could hear them talking very distinctly. After
having rounded their horses up together they returned to the fire.
Thinking they would lie down in a short time, for they did not
seem to suspect any trouble that night, we started to crawl down
to their camp, all abreast. After our guide, Freeman, found that I
was determined to attack them he seemed to muster up courage and
come right to the front like a man. My object in crawling near
their camp so soon was to see in just what position they lay
before the fire went out, and when the last one laid down we were
within fifty yards of them. I told the boys we had a soft thing of
it, for each of us had two revolvers and a good knife, and the
Indians were all lying close together with their feet towards the
fire. I told them we would wait two hours as near as we could
guess the time and then they would be asleep; that then we would
crawl up and send them to their happy hunting-ground. After
waiting until we thought they were asleep we crawled down to their
camp, again all three abreast, George on my right and Freeman on
my left; and so we drew near, their fire had not gone entirely
out, and a little breeze now and then would cause it to blaze up
just enough so that we were able to get their exact positions. I
told the boys to watch me and when I raised to my feet for both to
raise and draw both revolvers as we would then be right at their
heads, and for each man to stick the muzzle of each of his pistols
to an Indian's head and fire; George to take the two on my right
and Freeman the two on toy left, and I to take the two in the
middle, and after firing each man was to jump back two jumps, so
in case one of us should miss one of his men that we would be out
of their reach, thereby enabling us to get all of them without
taking any chances ourselves.
George said that at the first click of his pistol one of his men
raised up in a sitting position, and he only got one the first
shot. Freeman and I each got our two Indians the first shot; but
George having both his eyes on one, the other rose to his feet.
George and I took two shots each at this other Indian before we
could get him down. It was mostly guess work, for it was so dark
that we could scarcely see him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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